


all the stories you will leave

by MrMundy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, This won't ever be finished, i just didn't want it sitting in my docs and never see the light of day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24621670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMundy/pseuds/MrMundy
Summary: an unfinished, discombobulated fic that i'm never going to get around to finishing. siebren and harold's relationship, snippets of arcs i never completed, etc. was supposed to be a big romance / drama but I got very burnt out.read the author's notes, please!
Relationships: Dr. Harold Winston/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	all the stories you will leave

**Author's Note:**

> i've been wanting to just throw this out here for a while. i really lost motivation for it and decided i wasn't going to complete it, but after putting so much work into it, letting it sit in my docs just felt really stifling. enjoy it, hate it, whatever - it's out there in the world, now.
> 
> a good 4,000ish words have been chopped from this, but I left a lot of the incomplete scenes and ideas in here. I realised some time ago that my headcanons and ideas for this ship aren't everyone's cup of tea, and that the work I put in for this is mostly for myself. 
> 
> so, I'll only publish most of what I had physically written out. 
> 
> I don't plan on writing any more for this ship - my inspiration for them is basically non-existent now! but if you're curious about anything regarding the plot, don't be afraid to ask me about it.

They'd met back in their twenties as interns working for Lucheng Interstellar. Different fields of work called them each to different areas of the labs, but being only barely a year apart in age and having a fascination with the stars made Harold and Siebren quick friends. Looking back at how they'd met, Harold had to laugh - they'd both been  _ dorks _ , bonding over science and tabletop games together, spending weekends visiting shops and restaurants in Lijiang's markets.

That had been nearly ten years ago. Since then, so much had happened: the omnic crisis, the formation of Overwatch, and, of course, Harold had moved to the moon for a project to study behavior in the newly built lunar colony. All the while, he'd kept on good terms with Siebren, a constant back and forth communication for the past several years since they'd separated for their individual careers. 

The past month had been full of anticipation for Harold because of his messages from Siebren. His best friend was coming to visit the moon - that day! Any time now, he knew he'd hear the call for help at the loading docks as his friend's days-long trip finally came to a close. 

He had so much to show him. Including his little Specimen 28 - two years old and showing so much promise already, Harold just  _ had _ to brag once Siebren arrived. He wondered if that was how Siebren felt talking about his little one back home - not so little anymore, Harold reminded himself, she'd be a teenager by now. 

Had that much time really passed already?

The thought was cut short as he heard Patel's voice over the overhead system. 

"All personnel to dock 4-C, Harold's friend is here."

She sounded smug - Harold felt his face flush as he stood from his computer, and Yoshida nudged his arm. 

"So we finally get to see this Doctor De Kuiper!" Yoshida laughed, "Sure hope he's as great as you say he is."

Harold nudged them back, rolling his eyes.

"Doctor Chao has met him, too - just ask her. He's brilliant." 

"Yeah, you both talk pretty highly of him." Yoshida said, putting their hands in their pockets. After a second, they turned to look at Harold in the eyes, and without a smidge of remorse, deadpanned, "But how good looking is he?"

"I -- he's  _ okay _ ," Harold stammered. Nevsky whistled from behind the two of them.

"Ooh, sensing some unresolved feelings there, Winston." Nevsky said.

"There's nothing unresolved, you're just cornering me and asking if my best friend is hot. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Didn't say hot, but I think we know what Harold thinks of him now." Yoshida turned and offered their hand in a high-five to Nevsky. Harold flinched at the sound before rolling his eyes again. Another laugh came from Yoshida before they continued. "Harold, this is the most exciting thing that's happened on this colony since the gorillas were born. That's  _ two years _ with nothing happening. We  _ have _ to bother you about this."

"Also no, we don't have anything better to do." Nevsky said. "We have to help your hot friend off his ship and into the colony."

"If you call him that while he's here, I'm going back to Earth."

"Sure you are," Nevsky said, as they approached the hallway before the docking area. "With Doctor De Kuiper, right?"

"Shut up," Harold snipped, and went to the airlock controls. 

The nice thing about the docks was that the ships were automated to lock onto place with the airlock, giving an enclosed walkway to those entering or exiting. Harold slid his identification card through the lock's reader and began punching in numbers on the keypad beside it. The rest of the scientists gathered, preparing carts for the tools being brought along with Doctor De Kuiper. They might have had a steady supply of food, but they didn't have other necessities that couldn't be grown.

...And Harold may have put in a request for more peanut butter. They weren't growing peanuts on the colony, and, well - everyone had their comforts. 

( Hopefully Siebren didn't expect them to have raw fish and onions on the colony. Harold had tried it  _ once  _ when he visited Siebren's family when they were younger, and that was enough. The raw onion taste had stayed with him for days. )

The doors opened with a hiss, revealing the interior of the entryway. Workers stepped through with arms loaded with crates, helping the scientists load them onto hovering carts, and the bustle of everything drew Harold’s attention for several moments. And then his focus honed in on a very tall figure stepping through the doors, curious eyes scanning his surroundings.

“Oh, be careful, that’s -- That’s delicate!” Came Siebren’s voice, and Harold watched as he jolted forward, arms reaching for a device in one of the scientist’s arms. Harold found himself grinning at just the sound of his voice, rushing over to the entrance.

“Siebren!” He said, immediately grabbing the attention of the taller man. Siebren turned to meet his gaze, and - maybe it was cliche to think about, but when Harold finally met his eyes, it was as though nothing else was even happening around them. Rushing forward, he laughed as he watched Siebren open his arms.

Without hesitation, he threw himself into a hug, squeezing around Siebren's torso as tightly as he could. The gesture was returned, thankfully - Siebren nearly lifted him from the ground and Harold laughed more. 

"Oh my god, Siebren!" He said as he was gently set back onto the ground, his hands clinging to Siebren's arms. "It's so good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too, Harold." There was something soft behind Siebren's voice. "Two years feels like so much longer than it really is."

"Of course! It’s felt like so long, between learning to live on the moon and taking care of the gorillas…" Harold let go of Siebren, "I feel a lot older than thirty-four."

“You don't look it! But - oh, is that a grey hair I see?” Siebren said, ducking lower to inspect the side of Harold’s head. Harold laughed, pushing at him. He wasn’t greying yet -- was he?

“Oh -- Stop it, stop!” He said, and Siebren leaned up once again and settled for pulling him into another hug. From somewhere behind them, Yoshida whistled as they pushed a loaded cart along, quickly shushed by Nevsky. 

"As much as I want to keep teasing him," Nevsky said, shooting a stern look at Yoshida, "Let him have his moment, he hasn't seen the guy in two years."

"Alright, alright," Yoshida said, and followed him out of the doorway. 

"Anyway," Harold cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring Yoshida. Siebren looked confused, but didn't say a word. "Let me help you with the rest of your things and... I can show you around. Get you settled in."

"That sounds good, my friend."

Harold spent the next half hour helping Siebren load his equipment onto carts, taking it to a separate laboratory that had been made specifically for the purpose of short-term stays for other scientists. Siebren had his own bedroom beside the lab, a simple barely-big-enough bed for a man of his height and room to store his personal belongings that he’d been allowed to bring along. Siebren simply left the crate of his personal things in that room, and instead focused his time on putting together his lab equipment with the help of Harold and a few of the other scientists. Patel was particularly enthusiastic about helping, asking Siebren questions about the goings-on back on Earth and what his own research would entail on the colony.

Just as they’d managed to get one of the many computers in the lab programmed to work with one of Siebren’s more finicky devices, a sharp  _ ping  _ sound alerted Harold and the rest of the Lunar Ops scientists. Siebren raised a brow, curious.

“Ah, it seems that some of the apes woke up.” Harold explained, waving Siebren to follow him and the other scientists. “I was going to show you around once we finished working with your stuff, but I guess you get to meet the little guy first.”

“I don’t mind,” Siebren said, following along. They made their way through the colony, past the guest lab and into the atriums, crowded with plants and computers displaying the oxygen levels of the colony as a whole. Beyond the atriums, there was what looked to be a climbing wall and swings - most likely for the apes, Siebren surmised, but was struck suddenly with the image of his friend up on one of the tire swings and couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from his lips.

“You alright?” Harold asked, glancing up at Siebren as they made their way to a door labelled ‘28’. 

“Yes, yes, just. Admiring the entire place, is all.” He lied, and Harold knew it was a lie just from reading his face. But he shrugged it off, opening the door with a quick scan of his ID card. The door opened with a quiet click, and inside was what looked to be a child’s bedroom.

“Hey, little guy.” Harold said, crossing over to the little bed. Upon it, a young gorilla sat dressed in what Siebren could only describe as an ape-shaped-onesie, sitting up in a very fluffy blanket. Huge eyes stared up at him, a tiny mouth dropped open into a surprised expression.

“He’s incredibly small,” Siebren said, his voice gentle. He crouched down beside Harold to get a better look at the young gorilla, smiling at him. When he spoke again, it was in the same tone he’d used with his daughter when she was so very small. “Hi there. Doctor Winston’s told me a lot about you.”

The young gorilla tucked himself into his blanket further, only his eyes visible from under the fuzzy material. Harold laughed, reaching forward to find his little hand.

“He’s actually the shyest of the bunch. The most well behaved, too.” Harold said, and Siebren watched as his friend let the gorilla cling to his hand, feeling something -- well,  _ something  _ he couldn’t  _ explain  _ \-- well up inside of him. 

“It’s good that you’re assigned to him, then.” Siebren said. “You were always the shyer one out of the two of us.”

“Yeah, well, now look at me.” Harold chuckled, and then turned his attention to the little one once again. “Do you want to keep napping, kiddo? All the commotion wake you up?”

The young gorilla looked torn, but ultimately he couldn’t stifle the yawn that came over him. Siebren watched him, a little surprised by the giant canines for only a moment. Harold laughed once again, standing up to tuck him in properly - he took the blanket off of him and waited for him to curl up with his pillow. Once he was all settled in and the blanket was comfortably overtop of him, Harold nudged Siebren out of the room and flicked the lightswitch off. Down the hall, it sounded as though some of the other scientists were having trouble with their specimens. 

“Should you… Help them?” Siebren asked, and Harold met him with a shake of his head. 

“We’re looking after them as singular caretakers at the moment. They’re extremely young and the genetic testing is advancing them pretty fast - normally, a gorilla would still be with their mother at this age, but these guys?” Harold shrugged. “They’re already about the mindset of a two year old human, which is  _ fascinating _ . My little guy is the furthest along, but we’re still trying to get the rest of them to learn that their main caretaker is, essentially, their parent.”

“Oh, so now I can say my best friend is an astrobiologist, geneticist, an engineer, an astronaut,  _ and _ a parent, then?” Siebren said, raising a brow at him. 

“I guess so! A father to a gorilla toddler. I’m sure it’s fine that you met the little guy, though - he’s advanced enough that he knows more about what’s going on than any of the others. ” Harold smiled, leading Siebren away from the specimen’s rooms and down toward the labs once more. “Here, I’ll show you a bit around this way, and then you can sit for a while. I’m sure that trip was exhausting.”

“It was, but I did rest up on it… Some. There were moments, watching the stars pass by, and Earth getting smaller and smaller… I felt as though I was dreaming the entire time I was headed here and didn’t need to sleep.”

“It honestly is one of the most beautiful sights. Oh, but wait until you see this.” Harold lead him past the hangar where there were two vehicles parked, obviously built to traverse the low-gravity environment outside of the colony’s walls. The doors opened into a large observatory room, complete with a telescope that rivalled the one back in Siebren’s university. He stared up at the partially-open doors of the observatory’s great window, keeping close to Harold as they walked toward a large, glowing panel on the floor.

“Step on that.” Harold said, pointing to it. Siebren, curious, put a foot down onto the panel and watched as the doors slowly opened, revealing the vast expanse of space and the Earth, bright and blue and wonderful, staring down at them. Siebren’s face lit up, his lips forming into a wide smile. The light of the Earth’s blues lit up his face in a strangely cool-toned hue.

“You get to see this every day, don’t you?” He said, not breaking his gaze with the Earth’s form. “Does it ever get old?”

Harold looked up at Siebren, his expression soft, before turning to look up through the Observatory window.

“It never gets old, no.”

  
  
  


The next day or so ( hard to tell for Siebren, being new on the colony and used to running on coffee and sugar rushes ) was a mess of Siebren getting his equipment set up and the first of his research beginning - he had tests to run in both artificial gravity and the low-gravity environment outside of the colony. Aside from that, he had settled in fantastically well, making quick friends with Patel and, surprisingly, Yoshida - though Harold remained his closest friend. They spent their downtime together, catching up with each other’s lives at meals or at night when the specimens had all gone to bed. 

“So, how’s your daughter been doing?” Harold asked, leaning over a barely-big-enough dining table. Siebren looked up at him from where he'd been looking at his plate. 

"She's doing very good. I still cannot  _ believe  _ she's almost sixteen!" Siebren said, his voice filled with pride. "I mean… I'm not even forty yet. How is she getting so old?"

"That's kind of how time works, Sieb." Harold said, flicking at the napkin on the table. "I mean, you had her when you were, what, twenty?"

"Yes, but still." Siebren said, a pout in his voice. "Still. I remember when she was so little, and now she’s… Taller than you, actually.”

“Taller than -- Okay, I get it, your entire family is made up of giants and your fifteen year old daughter is taller than me already.” The napkin fluttered as Harold took it between his fingers, rolling it into his palm. “At the very least, in a few years she’ll be an adult and you can’t tease me about that anymore.”

“Don’t start talking like that - she’s almost an adult - I’m going to be looking for grey hairs every morning.”

“You’re saying you don’t have any right now? What’s that, then?” Harold looked pointedly at Siebren’s temple in a mockery of Siebren's joke when he'd arrived, which prompted a half-scowl from Siebren. 

“If there’s any grey there, it’s from stress - you know, before coming up here, I was writing papers nonstop just to get the chance.” Siebren leaned back onto the backrest of his chair, bringing a hand to his chin. “I don’t think there was ever a moment I wasn’t writing, or -- or trying to figure out just what to say in my head. I really, desperately wanted to visit - both for research purposes and to see you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do all that,” Harold said, waving a hand. “Doctor Chao and I both wrote letters saying you should be brought up to the colony. Nothing but the highest of praise.”

“So you’re the one that pushed that along.” Siebren said, grinning, “I wondered why after the third paper, just before coming here, they sent all my requests back and told me I’d already been approved.”

“Guilty!” Harold said, and then pushed back from his seat to stand. “I’ve gotta get back to check on the little guy, make sure he eats. Come by later and see him, get him a bit more socialized, alright?”

“I wouldn’t miss that opportunity.” Siebren stood as well, gathering up the plate and silverware from his lunch. “I do have to thank you again, though, Harold. Just being here a couple of days has already sped my research along - I  _ really  _ do appreciate this more than you know.”

The look in his eyes was so genuine, his smile so soft, Harold had to look down at his feet to keep from embarrassing himself with his own grin.

  
  
  
  


Over the next two months, Siebren made leaps with his research. Having the ability to do testing in different variations of gravity and low-gravity ( that wasn’t artificial like the Tobelstein's work! ) made it much easier for him to begin racking up data. Harold, on the other hand, didn’t quite understand most of what he was working on - years ago, he may have been able to piece together the various equations scribbled across large screens in Siebren’s lab, but these days, his work lay in other areas. He marvelled at how far Siebren had come since their schooling days - before, he’d simply had an interest in black holes and neutron stars, but now he was unravelling the very workings of such things. 

Sometimes, he would wander into Siebren’s workspace and watch as the man was in deep concentration over something, would watch as he read something off of one of the computer systems monitoring the outside of the colony and just smile. His best friend was nearby, and that was enough. 

Other times, Siebren would notice him hanging around and would encourage him over, and Harold would act as a willing ear to listen to what he was working on. Apparently, that was all Siebren needed sometimes to realize that the problem he’d been fussing with had an easy solution. Harold would always laugh when Siebren made the most delighted noise before scribbling numbers and symbols onto his boards, showing the solutions off to Harold excitedly. It was fascinating to watch him work, especially so closely.

However, time flew by quickly, and just as he’d arrived, Siebren knew he’d be leaving soon. He’d had just gotten accustomed to the day and night cycles on the colony when he realized he would be leaving within the next week and vented his frustrations to Harold. The other scientist simply laughed, assuring him that the next visit he had, he’d have a much easier time adjusting. He was allowed to leave much of his equipment on the colony, as he’d be returning within the next few months, but his departure was still disappointing. 

Harold hugged him before he left, and Siebren found that as they stood on the loading dock, he didn't want to let go. But he did, and eventually found himself on a long trip back home to his university where he knew he’d have to stay to work for a few months. The next few years passed in such a manner, with slowly-lengthening trips to the colony in Siebren’s schedule, going from his first two months to four, and eventually to six - each with smaller breaks in-between. He made time for his daughter each time he came back to Earth, telling her stories of all the work done there.

His research was going well, but was held back by the fact that the had to keep leaving. Siebren was on the path to creating artificial black holes, he said, and while Harold wasn’t sure that it was the safest thing in the world to recreate, he was proud of him. Constantly, Siebren would talk about wanting to harness gravity itself, shackling it within his grasp to figure out the mysteries of the universe. 

His longest stay, at seven months, provided him with more work than he could have predicted. The other scientists were more than happy to help with his work, and Patel took a particular interest in the exact calculations of gravity across various environments, giving Siebren a near-constant assistant in the lab. He was grateful for that. Especially when his experiments began giving him wildly different numbers, tossing half of his theories out the airlocks and into the depths of space.

Tossing out ideas only gave him room for more, he assured Harold one night after clearing off the large screen in his lab. He looked stressed, tired, and at his wit's end. So Harold pulled him aside and told him he'd help out later, but he needed to rest. Now. 

Reluctantly, Siebren went along with it. Patel and Nevsky joined in as Harold suggested they all sit down and have a night to themselves. The other scientists agreed - the specimens were put to bed, the experiments and tests were put away. One of the rec rooms had a large screen the scientists rarely took advantage of, but Harold flipped it on and everyone excitedly began arguing over what to put on as they tossed their labcoats aside.

Eventually, they settled on some sci-fi action romance featuring an interspecies alien-human relationship. 

"See, that's what I want." Yoshida said, pointing at the main alien protagonist. 

"Want in a partner, or want to  _ be _ ?" Flores asked from his place reclined on the floor.

Nevsky and Patel laughed. Yoshida shrugged their shoulders.

"Why not both?"

"To be fair, I think I’d have to agree. Anything beats being human." Flores said, and went quiet after laughing with Yoshida. Harold started the movie and settled next to Siebren, who sat on the couch with one arm on the armrest, brows knit together.

"You know, I can tell you're still thinking about work." Harold teased him, his voice lowered. Siebren rolled his eyes.

"It's just - there has to be a reason--"

"Nope. No talking about work." Harold interrupted. "Sit here and watch this with me. You need a break or else you're going to drive yourself mad about this."

Reluctantly, Siebren ( barely ) relaxed and tried to focus on the movie in front of them. Harold sighed, watching his expression, hoping for him to relax fully and let his mind take a break. Fifteen minutes in, watching the human protagonist fight off some sort of alien insects, Siebren finally looked as though he didn't have his entire focus on equations, didn't look as though he was going to run for his lab any second. 

The movie treaded on - it wasn't that good, Harold decided - and at an hour in, he slumped against Siebren's shoulder. Neither of them seemed to mind - Harold continuously glanced up at Siebren, watching his expression, eyes lingering just a moment too long before he shook off the focus. 

Nobody commented when Siebren's arm slipped over Harold's shoulders to rest there, comfortable. And nobody commented when Harold spent more time watching Siebren than the movie. 

  
  
  


"Looks like you've got an extra set of hands." Harold said, watching Siebren as he wrote across a large board in front of him, his right arm cradling a very interested young gorilla. Winston, as he'd come to be named, clung to Siebren's labcoat and watched what he was writing with intensity not too dissimilar from Siebren's own. Siebren smiled, holding Winston sightly tighter.

"Actually I've got one less hand - it's a good thing I'm able to write with both." He glanced down at Winston. "I think he's genuinely learning from this. Look, watch." 

He maneuvered to give the pen in his hands to Winston, who chewed the end for a moment before reaching for the board. Where Siebren had begun writing an equation, Winston scrawled in the rest, his handwriting messy and hardly legible - but what  _ could  _ be read was correct.

"That's fantastic," Harold breathed, turning his attention to Winston. "Hey, you're doing really good. I'm really proud of you."

Winston lit up, his smile bright as he reached for Harold. Siebren laughed and handed him over, watching as he clung to Harold's neck and repeated unintelligible noises over and over. Harold cooed at him and only slightly struggled with his weight, muttering things about how proud he was, and Siebren's expression turned soft as he watched the two of them. 

"Do you want to get dinner?" Harold's voice came through Siebren's hazy thoughts. He was surely speaking to Winston, though, judging by how gentle his voice was.

"Sieb. Hey." Siebren shook his head, blinking at Harold, who'd raised his voice slightly. "I came by to make you eat, so come on."

Siebren nodded, setting down his pen upon the desk beside him. Harold adjusted Winston in his arms, and the young gorilla rested his head on his shoulder, watching Siebren as he joined the two of them. He made a curious noise upon seeing Siebren's expression - flustered, a little surprised - and Siebren quickly smiled at him instead. Winston made another noise and then settled against Harold once again, watching Siebren as they walked together through the colony’s halls. 

Dinner was, apparently, some potato soup Nevsky had left in the kitchen with a note for everyone to have some. Both Harold and Siebren were grateful, as neither of them really felt like making anything themselves ( Harold would have settled for a peanut butter sandwich, of course ). Harold set Winston down at one of the tables with a bowl of fruit and a cup of peanut butter, the latter of which was licked clean within moments and Harold was left with a young gorilla staring up at him in silent plea for more. 

He didn’t want to give in. Siebren was tempted to, almost standing to reach for more, but was quickly side-eyed by Harold who was in the process of dumping soup into a couple of bowls.

“He really doesn’t need any more.” Harold said. “It’s my fault he loves the stuff so much anyway.”

He sat down beside Siebren and slid a bowl to him, smiling. Before taking a single bite, he made sure to ruffle Winston’s fur and encourage him to finish eating. Siebren smiled at the scene, settling in happily with his best friend and a warm meal.

  
  
  


The end of seven months was rough. Siebren didn’t want to leave, and between Harold, the other scientists, and even little Winston, nobody wanted him to leave, either. However, he had to - work at his university called, and he had to get his readings back home and give a conference about them in order to keep staying with the colony. He left for a three-day trip back to Earth after spending nearly an entire day with Harold, tailing after him to talk to him about everything and anything. It was during that time that he noticed the way Harold tried to avoid catching his gaze for too long, would look away with a laugh when Siebren got a little too close.

Nonetheless, they hugged for some time before Siebren boarded the transport back to Earth. Harold had pressed his face against Siebren’s shoulder and mumbled how he’d miss him, and Siebren rested his chin on Harold’s head and sighed heavily.

He landed on Earth with little sleep, heading straight for the Netherlands from the landing area and crashing in his own bed hours later. Siebren awoke at four in the morning, groaning at the sudden shift in what should be a proper sleep schedule and settled for making a mug of coffee. He had several messages on his phone when he renewed the service on it, including several messages from his daughter, Milou, and two from Harold.

Milou had sent him a welcome home message and asked when she could stop by, and Harold had sent him a string of emojis with a chipper ‘tell me when you get home safe!’.

Siebren smiled and typed out a reply to his daughter first - then reconsidered sending her something so late, and opted to message Harold back first. He sent back a cheerful reply that he was home and had just slept for several hours, apologizing for the time difference they’d most likely have. He then took his mug of coffee and went for his office to finish off his report. Work never stopped for him.

His phone buzzed on the desk he sat down at. On the screen, a message from Harold. Another sent quickly after.

( 4:14 am ) It's okay, Bren! It's about 8 here.

( 4:14 am ) 8 pm. Wow. 

He typed up a reply, ignoring his work in favor of his best friend.

( 4:16 am ) Bren? That's a new one. 

( 4:17 am ) Tell Winston I miss him already. And the little guy, too.

He received back a cheerful message and a photo of Winston ( the gorilla ) sleeping in what was designated as Siebren's lab. He smiled, spending the next half hour messaging Harold, feeling an ache in his chest. He missed him terribly - he chalked it up to the fact that they'd just spent six months together and nothing more. 

Really, nothing more. 

Harold told him he had to get back to work and their messages to each other went quiet, leaving Siebren with his work. Academic papers didn't write themselves, after all.

  
  
  
  


He presented his findings to a summit of other scientists with mixed reactions. Some found it ridiculous that he held his sights so high as to want to control gravity, calling it impossible and even comparing it to Icarus’s flight, while others studied his numbers and his results and congratulated him on his findings. He wouldn't find out if he was going to be given another chance on the colony until later in the month, meaning he had time to spend on his own and with his family.

His Earth family, at least. 

His daughter caught up with him and they went for lunch together on the weekend. He took her to a snug little restaurant and bakery that they'd frequented years ago. Milou thankfully still enjoyed it, didn't think it was childish at all to revisit a place from her childhood. They sat down together and talked about everything that had gone on in their lives - Milou was graduating soon and catching the attention of big-name musicians with her skill on the piano. 

Siebren, for his part, told her about his research - he didn't go too far into the details, as he knew she didn't have an interest in the technical bits of it - and about Harold and Winston. He was positively beaming as he spoke of them, making Milou laugh behind her mug of coffee.

"What?" He said, halfway through telling her about Winston's recent endeavors. She shook her head, waving a hand.

"Pa, I'm sorry, just ask the guy out already. You talk about him more than I talk about Dmitri." 

“I -- He’s my dearest friend, Milou, and who’s Dmitri?” Siebren said, setting down his mug of coffee. Milou shrugged, picking at her napkin with one hand. 

“Just a guy I’m seeing. It’s not important, seriously. Let’s talk about your crush on Doctor Winston, that’s way better.”

“Milou, it’s not a crush.” Siebren said, tapping his fingers against the hardwood table. 

“Yeah, okay, sure, pa.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s not a crush. Definitely not, not when you light up brighter than my cat when he sees Christmas lights every time you say his name.” 

"Only because I respect him as a colleague and a friend." Siebren said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "We're dropping this. Tell me about what's going on with you, Milou."

Milou rolled her eyes with a laugh.

"Alright, fine…"

Their conversation devolved into talk of Milou’s plans for after graduation, and she dodged any questions about her supposed new boyfriend. Siebren didn’t mind, though - he was simply grateful to have family in his life.

  
  
  


Later in the month, Siebren’s colleagues came to their conclusion. His next trip would be his last, and then he’d have further trips with a private company on smaller space stations. He was disappointed in the sense that he’d be more isolated, and that he wouldn’t get to see Harold, but he was excited to see what he could learn in a proper, zero-gravity environment for an extended period of time. He messaged Harold that very night, telling him about the change, and was met with quite the same reaction he himself had - excitement to learn, but disappointment in not being around each other.

He assured Harold they could make the best of his next trip. Harold told him that he better, and Siebren felt his heart beat twice as fast. 

Maybe he could make it worth it. If he could just --

His daughter’s teasing rang in his head. 

Maybe.

  
  
  
  


Harold glanced at his messages. One notification sat, unopened, a small red '1' highlighted against the blue of the screen. He'd been so busy today, he hadn't gotten a chance to check anything other than messages from the other scientists. He tapped the icon, bringing up his recent conversations, and at the top was Siebren's name with a notification. 

He opened it.

( 3:54 PM ) DEKUIPER: Harold? Are you around? I want to talk to you. 

Harold looked at the clock - almost eight pm. It wouldn't hurt to reply now, would it? It was late for Siebren by now. Maybe he wouldn't be awake. The twinge of anxiety in Harold's chest at the last part of the message wouldn't rest until he got a reply, so what could it hurt?

( 7:46 PM ) WINSTON: I've been really busy all day, but I'm here now. If it's late for you, we can talk in the morning.

He suspected Siebren to be asleep, so the sudden reply startled him.

( 7:47 PM ) DEKUIPER: I'm still awake. I haven't been able to sleep, actually. 

( 7:47 PM ) WINSTON: Anxious about something? You don't have anything important to do in the morning, do you?

( 7:48 PM ) DEKUIPER: No, I just have to pick up Milou from school tomorrow. But that's beside the point.

( 7:49 PM ) DEKUIPER: This is hard to write out. It would be harder to say out loud. 

A few minutes passed. Harold stared at his screen, concern washing over his features. He was about to type something up when a new message appeared.

( 7:54 PM ) DEKUIPER: I miss you. A lot. A lot more than I thought I would. I keep thinking about the last time I saw you, and the time we got to spend together, even if we were working, and…

He went quiet. The silence in messages made Harold's chest feel tight. Was something wrong?

( 7:58 PM ) DEKUIPER: I can't do this through text. Can I call you?

( 7:58 PM ) WINSTON: Of course. 

Harold sat back, waiting for the call notification on screen. Finally, just as his clock ticked to 8:03, the notification appeared. Except it wasn't just a call, Siebren had apparently opted to turn on his camera, judging by the icon on screen. Straightening his labcoat, Harold cleared his throat and hit the answer button, smiling when Siebren's form appeared on screen. He was wearing what looked to be pajamas, a pale collared shirt, the color distorted by the blue glow of his screen. He looked tired, stressed, sitting in what Harold recognized as his bedroom, though the lights were turned off. 

"Hey," Harold said, meeting Siebren's gaze. Or at least, he assumed he did - cameras made it a little tricky, sometimes. Nonetheless, he smiled at Siebren, and Siebren smiled back at him, unusually shy.

"Hi," Was Siebren's first word of response, followed by a very sheepish, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Are you okay, Sieb? You seem… really stressed."

"I am - both. Fine, stressed,  _ both _ . Interchangeable, at the moment." Siebren ran a hand through his hair. "I just… I've been wanting to talk about… something."

"And that something is…?" Harold said, leaning on his elbow. The anxious feeling in his gut twisted. 

"Last time I was there, we… I… I realised something. And I didn't want to make you uncomfortable with it, so I didn't say anything." Siebren cleared his throat, rubbing his face with one hand. "You are… incredibly important to me, Harold, and saying something that might push you away is the last thing I want."

"Siebren, there's almost nothing that could push me away from you." Harold looked at him - directly at him, his expression serious. "I mean it."

"Okay.  _ Okay _ ." Siebren breathed slow, shutting his eyes for a moment to collect himself. He opened them once again, and his voice was quiet, unusually so. "I… Shit, how do I word this?"

Harold watched Siebren's expression, the way his cheeks and ears turned dark, the way he rubbed at the back of his neck. And then it clicked and Harold grinned, dumbfounded.

"Oh my god." Harold said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Siebren, do you… do you have a crush on me?"

"I wouldn't call it that!" Siebren said, his voice suddenly much louder. "I - I mean -- yes, I… I have feelings for you, alright? And I didn't want to say anything --"

"Sieb," Harold attempted.

"-- because what if I messed that up? And besides, I'm a father, how could I expect you to get involved with that, maybe I shouldn't have --"

"Siebren." Harold said, louder. Siebren stopped, his eyes wide.

"It's okay. I've been… feeling the same way. About you."

"You have?" Siebren looked surprised. 

"Yeah. I didn't want to get my hopes up or anything, so I didn't say anything, either." Harold's cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling. Siebren looked to be in the same situation.

"I guess we were both a bit oblivious." Siebren said. " _ Mijn god _ . We could have said something some time ago and already been past this."

"You think so? How far would we be, then?" Harold quirked how brows, getting a shocked noise from Siebren.

"I mean - maybe I'd have kissed you or something, by now, I hope!" Siebren said, his entire face lit up in a sudden flush. Harold laughed.

"I'm teasing you, Sieb. Don't feel like you have to do anything you don't want to."

"Well," Siebren said, looking away. "I know for a fact I  _ would  _ like to kiss you. Maybe make up for the time we haven't been kissing since we were both so dense…"

"That," Harold said, sighing, "Sounds great. You better kiss me when you get here. As  _ soon _ as you get here. Sweep me off my feet."

"And have my first kiss with you be in front of the loading crew? No, I think I'll drag you away somewhere first."

"That sounds like you want something a little more involved than kissing--"

"Harold!" Siebren said, laughing nervously. "Okay, I did  _ not _ expect this. At all."

"I can't help it!" Harold laughed, and the feeling of anxiety from earlier was completely gone, replaced by relief and giddiness. "You're my best friend - you should know my humor by now."

"You're right, I should. It's part of why I like you so much." Siebren admitted, looking down at his hands, obviously fidgeting. "You used to be so shy, and then I visited you on the colony and…"

"To be fair, Sieb, we both changed… quite a bit." Harold said, tilting his head so his cheek was resting on his palm. "It's nice to be able to just be close the way we always have together, though." 

"Mmhm." Siebren agreed. "You know, I think I miss you more  _ now  _ than when we were separated for those few years after Lucheng."

"Yeah. Yeah, I get what you mean." Harold said. "You know, I almost made a move on you last time you were here. When we were watching that movie, and you let me put my head on your shoulder? Every time the screen would light up more, I'd look up at you, and…"

Siebren watched him intently, eyes wide.

"I almost kissed you. I… I should have."

“Well, don’t think about what you  _ should  _ have done.” Siebren said, his expression turning soft. “We can just… Think about what we’ll do when we can.”

“Good idea.” Harold leaned back slightly, off of his elbow to sit straight. “I will… Definitely do that. In fact, I think I’ll just… Think about that right now.  _ Hmm _ . You’re so tall, though, you know that?”

“That does pose a problem. You being so much shorter than me, that is -  _ my  _ height is fine.” Siebren said, and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I could always lean down, though. Or pick you up.”

“Okay, would it be terrible of me to say that I kind of  _ want _ you to pick me up?” Harold laughed. He watched as Siebren smiled, full and wide, happy. “I mean, it’s not like you haven’t before.”

“You’re light!” Siebren said, laughter in his voice. “Perhaps that’s what I’ll do - I’ll sweep you into my arms and kiss you.”

“How romantic,” Harold said. “I… Honestly can’t deny that I’ve thought about that. More than a few times.”

“Really?” Siebren’s eyes went wide. He’d also thought of it - maybe a few times. Maybe. “You’ve thought about me sweeping you off your feet?”

“I’ve thought about a lot of things with you, if that wasn’t obvious by now.” Harold was sure that his face was entirely red. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down. “I’ve… Been hiding feelings for you for a while, now. I’ve… Thought about how I’d tell you - sometimes it even crept into my dreams, taunting me with the idea of just telling you that I’ve been so into you....”

“Harold,” Siebren breathed, and Harold studied the longing look in his eyes. There was something more there, something a little less longing and a bit more hungry. “I’m so relieved I wasn’t the only one…”

Maybe he was reading the situation right. Maybe he wasn’t. Hesitant, he continued, his voice dropping lower as he looked for any reaction on Siebren’s face. 

He made a comment on the nature of his dreams and watched as Siebren’s gaze lit up, his cheeks bright pink as he hesitated in replying. But then Siebren smiled, made a joke about the same thing, and Harold winked at him.

* * *

( incomplete section ! )

* * *

Stepping off of the platform, Siebren was greeted with the hum of the colony’s ventilation systems and the numerous scientists standing around with hovercarts waiting to help pull everything off of the ship he’d been on. Harold, however, let go of his cart to jog forward, throwing himself up at Siebren. With a delighted laugh, Siebren lifted him from the ground in a tight hug, swinging him around once before setting him back down. At first, when they’d discussed it, Siebren had wanted to kiss him in private for the first time, but now, standing with him, hands on his waist?

He leaned down and met Harold halfway, mashing their lips together in one of the messiest, clumsiest kisses of his life. Had it not been for the fact that his entire focus was on Harold, Harold’s hands on his face and his own hands on Harold’s sides, the smell of him, the way he tasted, he would have heard the other scientists whistle behind them. 

Maybe he should have been more reserved. Maybe - but reserved didn’t cut it when he had thirteen years to make up for. He poured everything he could into the kiss - how much he’d missed Harold, how much he’d wanted to touch him for so long, the desperate need to express his affection…

When he pulled back, he knew his cheeks were completely red and he stared down at Harold whose face was also a deep red, his eyes soft as a thumb stroked over his cheekbone. 

“Hey,” Harold said, his voice rough.

“Hi.” Siebren said, meeting his eyes. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” Harold tugged him close again, nudged their noses together. Siebren went to kiss him again, stopped in his tracks as Harold pulled back slightly. “Let’s get your things taken care of. I don’t think everyone else wants to see this.”

“Right,” Siebren said, and leaned up once more, clearing his throat. Everyone around them seemed amused, faces lit up in delighted grins.

“Finally,” He heard someone say, and he turned his attention to helping load the carts for the time being. Harold helped him - though Siebren did most of the heavy lifting. Most of what had been packed this time were either Siebren’s personal belongings - books, files, and the like - and repair materials for the scientists. They couldn’t exactly manufacture tools or new wiring, and after several years living on the colony, things needed to be repaired every now and again, resulting in their resources slowly running low.

And considering Harold’s new hamster project who kept chewing on any and all exposed wiring… Well. Safe to say there were several cases of new wiring of all sorts of types. 

Siebren was excited to meet the little troublemaker, despite the stories Harold had told him. 

After the last of the tools had been stowed away, Siebren dropped onto a couch in the rec room, leaning his head back against the headrest. Harold joined him, sitting casually beside him, still dressed in his labcoat and looking entirely too professional. Reaching for him, Siebren slid his hand up Harold’s back and smiled at him. 

"Missed you," Harold said, and turned so they could be face to face. Siebren leaned into him, pressing their foreheads together, reaching to stroke through Harold's hair. Finally, he could soak up all the physical affection he wanted, and they could be closer than they ever could have been before. He nudged their noses together, smiling, and he felt Siebren puff a laugh against his lips.

"Missed you, Harold." 

For some time, they stayed like that. Harold didn't have much to do, and the other scientists were surely busy with their own projects…

They could always take advantage of the situation. Harold shifted so he could sit facing Siebren on his lap.

  
  
  
  
  
  


To be fair, Harold kissed him first, so he was the reason they were in the situation. Past nine o'clock, the specimens all put to bed and the lab Siebren was given empty aside from the two of them. How could he not reciprocate when the opportunity was perfect?

Harold pulled at him, tugging him closer, forcing Siebren to box him in against the cool metal of the lab table. It still felt so new for the both of them to be able to simply steal a kiss now and again, to slide their hands near each other and take affection anytime they pleased. Gently, Harold’s arms settled over Siebren’s shoulders as they pressed against each other, his chin tilting upward, lips curled into a smile. 

“Hey,” Siebren said, dipping downward until his lips brushed Harold’s. They laughed against each other, bumping their noses, and Harold replied with just the same greeting and then pushed forward,  _ taking  _ the kiss that he wanted. It started playful, a distraction from Siebren’s work and just a moment to spend together, but the laughter and the teasing was quickly tossed aside in favor of something more. Glasses were plucked from Harold’s face to give them both more comfort, dropped onto the table with a quiet clatter.

Siebren pushed him a little harder against the table. Harold made a quiet noise in the back of his throat, hands sliding down his sleeves to grip at the ends rolled up to his forearms. Using that as leverage, Harold pulled his arms until he was bracing his hands against the table, right where he wanted them. Lips parted and he felt Siebren grin against his mouth before pushing rougher against him, the slide of his tongue in his mouth the singular thing anchoring him in reality. Years ago, he would have thought such a thing would only happen in his dreams ( and his imagination, he won’t lie, he’d been attracted to Siebren for so many years now ), but now? 

It was so incredibly real. He felt heat radiating from Siebren, felt the way his teeth dragged against his lip and -- Harold’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red when he realized that he could feel the way Siebren’s hips were pressed against him, the way he unconsciously rocked against him. Pulling back from the kiss, he glanced down to gauge what he could from the look of them pressed so close together.

"Do you… maybe want to take this somewhere else?" Harold asked, staring up at Siebren with his cheeks flushed and his lips pink from their feverish kissing. Fingers flexed against the fabric of Siebren's shirt, digging in and clinging, wordlessly desperate. Siebren, above him, cleared his throat and nodded.

"I think… yes, that would… I'd like that." He tried not to focus on the fact that his best-friend-turned-boyfriend was very obviously turned on, or the fact that he was very turned on as well and had been, well - perhaps thinking about what it would be like to go to bed with him. Perhaps. He was guilty of just the same thoughts as Harold, unknowingly.

Instead, he took Harold's hand and let him lead the way, covering his quickly-flushing cheek with his free hand. They tried not to be obvious, avoided the places they knew other scientists would be. Harold's thumb brushed over his knuckles and Siebren felt his face flush anew, hardly believing that yes, he was about to go to bed with his best friend of almost thirteen years. Finally.

Thankfully, they didn’t run into anyone ( or any of the gorillas, seemed all of them were asleep at the proper time ) and made it to Harold’s bedroom, tucked away in a private section of the colony like the rest of the full-time scientists’ bedrooms. Harold pulled his hand away from Siebren’s to slide his card through the door’s reader, punching in his password with practiced ease, even with his hands slightly shaky from anticipation.

Once the doors shut behind the both of them, Harold tugged off his labcoat and tossed it over the chair to his left, and Siebren did the same. He’d been in Harold’s bedroom numerous times before, of course - they’d watched movies together, and Harold had shown him around when he’d first arrived, they’d fallen asleep together the previous night. But as Harold tugged Siebren by the bottom of his shirt, it was a completely new atmosphere.

Harold smiled at Siebren as he backed toward his bed, the blankets kept tucked perfectly. He kicked his shoes off as he did so, surprised that he managed to keep balance, and offered the edge of the bed to Siebren.

“You want me down at your height, hm?” Siebren teased, and delighted in the way that Harold laughed. He sat down, leaning back on his arms and letting his legs hang open. What he expected was for Harold to join him, but what he was given instead was Harold slowly sinking to his knees in front of him, hands reaching for his legs and up his sides as he pulled himself close.

“I just… Wanted you in a better position.” He said, his cheeks flushed red. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I -- More than okay,” Siebren answered, watching as Harold went for the belt of his pants. He simply allowed him to do as he pleased, content to watch the sudden confidence in his features as Harold opened his pants, tugging his half-hard cock from inside.

“Oh my god,” Harold breathed, his fingers barely able to continue tugging at Siebren’s pants. He knew he was going to be a generous size, but seeing him in person --

“I -- Sorry,” Siebren said, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepish. His shirt was riding up, exposing the majority of his abdomen and the gentle flush over his skin. Harold cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“No, don’t -- Don’t apologize. Oh my god.” He shuffled closer, letting his fingers trail along Siebren’s still-clothed thighs, chancing a look up at him. The expression across Siebren’s face was enough to make him melt. “This seems… About accurate for someone as tall as you.” 

He paused, slid his fingers up toward Siebren’s cock, touching him so gently, delicately. 

“I might not be able to get all of this down the first time,” Harold said, leaning in to kiss the side of his cock. “But that’ll be my goal for next time.”

“ _ O mijn god _ ,” Siebren laughed, covering half of his face with one hand, looking down at Harold as he worked him over. His giddiness melted into gentle satisfaction as Harold licked up the length of him, looking up at him. Then Harold’s eyes closed as he focused on the task at hand, and Siebren watched as Harold did his best to make the way easier for himself before finally, finally opening his mouth and taking him the first inch, his tongue flattened to accommodate his size.

He repeated his previous words. Harold managed a little further before pulling back, moving his tongue in a way that Siebren could only imagine was to purposely coax more saliva down his cock, feeling the slick of it drip downward only to be caught by Harold’s fingers wrapping around what he couldn’t manage to fit in his mouth. 

Which was, actually, quite a bit of him. Usually Siebren felt nervous about his size, but the way that Harold looked so needily at him made that feeling dissipate from his chest. Siebren’s mouth dropped open as he watched Harold, a quiet whimper escaping his throat. It had been so long since he’d felt something like this - the warmth of someone’s mouth on him, the eagerness to take as much of him as possible - and he realized that even though he’d gotten blown by a few different people throughout his life, it was different with Harold.

Harold glanced up at him and looked like he wanted nothing more than to be there between his legs, bobbing his head a little more each time, slowing down to coax Siebren as far into his mouth as possible. 

“Harold,” Siebren said, his voice rough ( and yet still so gentle, somehow ), leaning his weight onto one arm so he could reach forward with the other, petting Harold’s hair. Slowly, Harold pulled off of him with a wet smack, stroking him as he smiled up at Siebren. 

“Good?” He asked, and Siebren responded with an enthusiastic nod. At the confirmation, Harold went right back to what he was doing, finding a comfortable pace that made Siebren squirm. Harold seemed to want to play around - he slowed down every few moments to watch Siebren twitch, stroked what he couldn’t get his mouth around in a delicate and slow manner. 

His teasing went on, but Siebren could tell it was a teasing born from his happiness to just be doing what he was doing - he had to admit he’d be drawing it out, too. 

Probably would, once Harold was finished with him. 

Siebren leaned his head back, mumbling in a mixture of Dutch and English, praising Harold and his mouth, his tongue, telling him how good he was doing. As he edged closer, his words became breathier until he wasn’t saying anything at all - simply gasping and letting out short, needy sounds until Harold pushed down as far as he could and Siebren felt the slick of the back of his throat -- he couldn’t hold on any longer after that. The sound that left his mouth was downright obscene - a mix of a groan and a desperate moan, his hand tightening in Harold’s hair as he spent himself into his mouth. Harold backed off quickly, a slick trail of spit and fluid down his chin and shut his eyes as he stroked Siebren through his climax. Siebren almost felt guilty as he opened his eyes and noticed a mess across Harold’s lips, his chin, and his shirt; that was quickly rectified when he saw how happy Harold looked, his eyes opening into an expression of pure adoration while his hand slowed to a halt.

Harold wiped at his mouth, gathering what he’d missed onto his fingers just to lick it off. Siebren made a desperate sound above him, eyes locked on as Harold’s tongue laved over his own fingers, cleaning up the mess he’d made. Siebren let himself fall back onto the bed, covering his face with one hand.

“I cannot believe how good that was. Harold,  _ oh my god _ .” Siebren laughed, still flushed red from his cheeks to his ears. “If someone had told me ten years ago that you were this enthusiastic in bed, I never would have believed them.”

“I mean, I can’t say this is like… Something I did all the time before  _ us _ , but.” He slid his hands up Siebren’s legs, smiling up at him. “I don’t know. I feel… Comfortable, doing this with you. Like I don’t have to hold back like I have with other people.”

“I’m glad.” Siebren leaned onto his elbow once again. “If you want, give me a few minutes and… I’ll return the favor.”

Harold crawled his way up onto the bed, settling himself next to Siebren. 

“That would be… Really nice.”

Siebren leaned toward him and stole a kiss, and after some time, he kept good on his promise.

  
  


* * *

( insert the story arc i never completed about their work together on the station, siebren's leave back to another station, etc. )

* * *

Harold knew something was wrong. He should have known from the start - this morning, Simon and Hypatia were both acting strange. Winston was, too - but Winston was always a bit eccentric.

He should have listened.

He looked down at his communicator, tapping in a message to the rest of the scientists that he needed help - now - and turned the corner toward the airlocks. Just as he’d made it round the corner and into the open hall, he heard something down the hall, a mashing of buttons. He slowed to a halt, listening - his message went unsent as he lowered his arm. 

To his right, one of the Hydroponics labs bubbled away with its steady stream of clean water. To his left, one of the medical offices, empty. And in front of him, the hallway where one of the main airlocks sat. He adjusted his glasses and went to step forward, only to be surprised by a very sudden, very angry Simon leaping at him. Harold yelped, trying to flee, but Simon caught the end of his coat and pulled him down, his feet skidding on the cold tile.

“Simon, please calm down,” He pleaded, only to be lifted. He struggled, kicking his legs. They really hadn’t thought out doing genetic testing on  _ gorillas _ \- they already got so large, this was just dangerous. 

“You were always the nice one,” Simon said, carrying him with no problem, “But, you know - one of us does something wrong, you punish all of us.”

Harold’s eyes widened. He tried to squirm away, but Simon’s grip was tight.

“We never meant--”

“Never meant what, to test us like this?” Simon’s voice was laced with venom. “Sorry, Doctor Winston. But we’ve gotta split the punishment evenly.”

Harold was about to protest again when he heard growling behind them. Simon turned, flaring his nostrils, and met eyes with Winston. Both apes stood tall, eyes narrowed at each other, watching for the other to move.

“Put him down,” Winston said, and then repeated himself much firmer, “Put him down, Simon.”

“Fine.” Simon said.

He turned, quick, and threw Harold.

Winston shrieked, charging toward Simon.

Harold felt something slam against the back of his head and promptly passed out.

  
  
  
  
  


“Dad?” 

A voice beside his head. A large hand grabbing his side, pain in his head, his arms, his entire body. Harold groaned, his eyes squeezing tighter in pain as he was jostled. He was cramped into a small area, but his legs were laid out in front of him.

“Please tell me you’re okay.” That was little Winston, wasn’t it? He opened one eye, slowly. His glasses were gone. Was there blood on his face? It felt like it. His arm ached as he reached up to touch the wetness on his face. Red coated the tips of his fingers as he pulled them back. 

“Hey, little guy.” His voice rasped. He felt lightheaded. His vision was blurry, between his eyes squinting from the light and his glasses being missing. “What happened?”

"Simon and Hypatia started a revolt," Winston started. Harold leaned his head back, bumping against the wall behind him. The impact made his vision blur again. "And I knew they were doing it. And I wanted to save you."

"Save me?" Harold tried to move his legs. The sudden shot of pain through his body stopped him. 

"They were gonna kill you." Winston explained, putting his hand on Harold's knee. Man, they really were cramped in here - what room was this? 

Harold squinted, trying to focus. The most he could make out was the vague shape of the room: small, domed, padded on the floor, and --

"Winston," Harold said, his voice weak. "Are we in an escape pod?"

"Yeah." Winston admitted, looking as though he'd done something  _ wrong _ . "I had to get us out of there."

Quiet settled in between them for a moment. Harold considered the entire situation, a smile drawing across his face despite the pain that it caused.

"I am  _ so _ proud of you, kiddo." Harold said, inhaling deeply. "Quick thinking. You really did save us both."

Winston looked down, smiling. 

“I think, though,” Harold started, his words beginning to slur together, “I think… First aid kit, in here, I need it.”

Winston’s eyes widened and he nodded, rummaging around behind him to find the pack. There wasn’t much room, cramped as they were. Finally, he found it and handed it over to Harold, who opened it with shaking hands. He dropped the gauze inside the box twice before finally unwrapping it, and Winston leaned over to help him wrap his forehead and, apparently, his cheekbone. It was messy, and uncomfortable, but it held everything in place like it should.

“I think I need a nap,” Harold said, and before Winston could protest, he was out.

  
  


He woke up to pain in his leg and the sound of Winston snoring. Harold shifted, trying not to jostle his leg, but to no avail - he moved in just the wrong way and ended up yelping, waking Winston from his light sleep. 

“Are you okay?” Winston said, words slurred by sleep. Harold breathed, shaky, a hand rested on his leg.

“No, but nothing I can about it, kiddo.” He said, and shut his eyes for several seconds. He felt warm, sweat rolling down the back of his neck. There had never been a time in his life where he’d been in so much pain, and for a moment his mind provided the ‘at least you’re not dead’, to which he gruffly thought ‘that would be better than this!’ and promptly scolded his mind for jumping between thoughts like that.

He sighed, his ribs aching with the movement of it, and looked to Winston.

“We’ve got rations in here, right? Something I can just - please tell me there’s one of those--”

As he spoke, Winston was already rifling through the ration case, pulling free a little pouch with a twist-top on the end, which he handed gingerly to Harold. Without hesitation, Harold opened the cap and began drinking the smoothie-consistency drink, only stopping to breathe once he’d downed half of it. 

“I doubt I could get anything else down besides this,” Harold said, finally looking at the package’s wording. It was some health-enhanced emergency drink, but it tasted like fruit mixed with chalk. Shrugging, he slowed down and drank the rest of it at a more reasonable pace, settling in to try and sit through the pain. He then remembered the first aid kit and opened it again, pulling out a small bottle of painkillers. He knew it wouldn’t do a lot, but it was better than nothing, he supposed, and took two with his drink pouch.

  
  
  


Three days felt like an eternity in a tiny emergency escape pod, cramped up with an almost-adult gorilla. They landed in the water near the rock of Gibraltar, and their arrival was noticed quickly by Overwatch agents working at the Watchpoint there. Their pod was hauled in by some of the heroes, and Winston was helped out first by a large German man. After, he explained that Harold’s leg was broken and the man gently lifted Harold out and cradled him against his chest, and a few of the medics on hand immediately jumped into action as Reinhardt - that was his name - carried him up to the Watchpoint. Winston followed along, anxiety filling his voice, asking if Harold was going to be okay every step there.

Harold was laid up in a temporary bed by one of the doctors after going into an emergency area, and Reinhardt waved them goodbye after making sure they’d be okay. Harold’s leg had been set as best as they could manage, but one of the doctors had explained that it wouldn’t heal properly. 

“The Lunar Colony?” One of the doctors said after Harold had been situated and was fully asleep, his mustache twitching as he spoke. “That’s… A long way away.”

“Yeah,” Winston said, sitting on the floor beside Harold’s bed, “It’s a long story.”

“Well, you have quite a bit of time on your hands and I have two willing ears.” The man said, taking a seat beside them. 

  
  
  
  
  


He'd been sleeping most of the day. Really, Harold had been sleeping off his injuries for the past  _ week _ . It was all he was able to do - he'd been beaten up badly. His legs still ached, he had stitches on his face. He was a mess.

A nurse opened the door to his room, waking him up from the way he'd slowly been nodding off again. She said something about a visitor and Harold perked up. 

Through the door came Siebren, his expression cautious, nervous. Harold smiled, ignoring the tight pull of the stitches on his face. Just the sight of him ( though blurry without his glasses, he  _ really  _ needed a new pair ) was enough to wake him from his drowsy state.

"Hey, honey." Harold said. His voice felt weak.

"Oh my god," Siebren said, laughter in his voice - but a nervous sort of laugh as his hands shook, hovering over Harold's form as he stood beside the bed. He looked torn between fear and tears, an utterly unusual look for the usually confident scientist. Harold held his hand up and gingerly he took it, covering it with his opposite hand. Siebren was silent for some time, staring down at Harold's injuries. There was something more than worry in his expression as he looked him up and down, his fingers squeezing gently around his hand. 

“When I saw the news report, I thought…” He watched Harold’s face. 

"You thought I died, huh?" Harold said, his voice quiet. He looked down into his lap, avoiding the expression across Siebren's features - he couldn't take that, not right now.

"I did." Siebren's fingers tightened around Harold's hand. "I just… Remember getting ready for bed and then… I got a panicked call from Milou, and…"

Siebren pulled his hands away, reaching for the flimsy chair the hospital had provided. He sank into it and Harold watched as his shoulders sank, listening to him speak with his voice laced with grief.

"I turned the report on and all I could think was that I lost you. I barely heard any of it, I… I remember seeing your photo, a mention of your name and I just thought the worst - everyone did. Nobody expected you to come back to Earth, we all just… Assumed you'd been killed by the malfunction."

"But I did come back. Thanks to Winston."

"Remind me to buy him something nice." Siebren said, his lips reluctantly tilting into a smile. Harold smiled back at him and it was the most wonderful thing Siebren had seen in years - and he'd draw it a pretty close tie to the first photo of a black hole, years ago.

"Siebren," Harold said, reaching over for his hand again. "I love you. So, so much."

"I love you, too. More than the stars themselves, more than the universe could ever dream of being--"

"Do you want to get married after I get out of here?"

Siebren paused. His cheeks turned a bright, wonderful shade of pink.

"I -- yes?" He didn't hesitate - he was simply taken aback. 

"I didn't mean to spring that on you. It's just… I almost died, and I got thinking about us, and…" Siebren's hand tightened around Harold's, quieting him.

"I understand. And I will repeat this,  _ yes _ , Harold, I want to marry you. I'd marry you right now if I could, but you're in no condition to put up with what I want to do with you afterward."

"Oh my god, Siebren." Harold let out an actual bark of laughter, bringing a hand to his face. "I've been sleeping for three days and I haven't seen you in two months, do  _ not _ test my dick right now, I think the nurses would hate me."

"Don't worry." Siebren said, leaning closer to him. The chair squeaked as he did so, a grating noise against the otherwise quiet of the room. He brushed Harold's hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. "I'm ready to wait until you've recovered."

Things fell quiet after that, comfortable despite the fact that they were in a hospital.

"...So, who's taking who's last name?" Harold said after some time, lacing their fingers together. He was obviously looking for some reason to hear Siebren's voice. Siebren laughed a huff of air through his nose.

"What if we … hyphenate. Siebren de Kuiper-Winston isn't too bad of a name.”

"I like that. A lot, actually.” Harold said, leaning back into his pillows. “De Kuiper-Winston.  _ Doctor _ De Kuiper-Winston. Both of us.”

“Confusing, but worth it.” Siebren said, scooting his chair closer so he could rest his elbow beside Harold to be closer to him. The bed was rather uncomfortable, as most hospital beds were, and he almost wished he could just take Harold back to The Hague with him and let him curl up in bed there, but… 

_ Patience _ , he told himself.  _ He’ll come home soon enough. _

  
  
  


Siebren stayed around for the next couple of weeks, reassuring Harold that he could get his work done from a computer he’d brought along. He just had to write some papers, that was all, he told him, but half the time he had his datapads open he was looking at  _ other  _ things without Harold’s knowledge. Other things being cheap decorations for a small wedding - they didn’t want anything big.

So he was a little excited to get married. Perhaps even on a bit of a giddy high between knowing his partner was alive and safe and being asked to marry him. He wouldn’t admit that.

Alright, maybe he would, but only to Harold. 

And Milou. 

... _ And _ Winston.

A couple of weeks was enough time to tell  _ family  _ what they were planning. 

( Family, he remembered, also included his parents. He could already predict that they wouldn’t be thrilled that he wanted to get remarried - they’d barely approved of Harold being his partner in the first place due to some inane reasoning that he wasn’t ‘good’ enough for him. )

A couple of weeks was also enough time for Harold to start walking again. His legs had gotten fairly battered, and he needed support any time he ventured from his room, but Siebren was just fine with letting him lean against him. Harold limped alongside him as they headed for the cafeteria, stopping every so often to let his legs rest. The hospital was, thankfully, well decorated and not entirely sterile and clinical feeling. Plants were at every corner and the walls were painted a pale shade of blue, so standing in the halls didn’t feel terribly stifling.

"I could just carry you," Siebren said, rubbing his hand against Harold's back. "Or get you a wheelchair."

"No, I… I want to do this, you know?" Harold said, subtly leaning into his touch. "Supposed to help, or something, working my legs again…"

"Won't help much if you fall,  _ liefste _ ."

"I know. Come on, come on." Harold urged Siebren along again, heading toward the cafeteria. One of the nurses who'd been watching Harold's recovery passed by them, eyeing his legs for a moment before smiling at the two of them, nodding at Siebren. 

  
  
  
  


There was a memorial for the other scientists from Horizon. It was pushed back until Harold was able to walk properly, until he was out of the hospital for good. His outward wounds may have healed, but his mental ones were still so, so terribly fresh. He was  _ fine  _ the entire ride to the service - Siebren’s hand clasped in his, his thumb rubbing over the back of his hand. Gentle motions, something to focus on other than the tightness of the tie around his neck and the subtle pain in his knees. 

But then they got to the building - Milou parked their car and Winston went to help Harold out, and -- he broke. Memories of the incident filled his mind and he grabbed onto Winston’s arm for support as he slapped a hand over his mouth, choking on his hiccup of a sob.

“Harold,” Siebren’s voice was beside him, and a hand was on his back in a moment. “Are you okay?”

He couldn't speak. Couldn't form the words he wanted to say, not even in his own thoughts. Everything in his head was a mess, slipping from imagery and sounds and unintelligible static with each passing second. Siebren pulled him in closer, pressing Harold against his side. Winston held onto his arm, his grip gentle. It helped, but just barely.

"Are you going to be able to go inside?" Siebren asked, but he sounded as though he was underwater. Harold hiccuped again, shoving his face against Siebren’s shoulder, his glasses pressing into his face. 

( an unfinished section once again! )

* * *

  
  


Harold cracked his eyes open, the insistent buzzing of his phone waking him up. As he turned the screen on, he saw a flood of messages - from Milou, from Winston, from nearly everyone he knew, all asking similar questions. In particular, he had twenty from Milou alone, the last four sitting at the top of his notifications.

( 2:33 pm ) Milou: Dad please respond to me

( 2:35 pm ) Milou: I'm coming over, I need to see you

( 2:36 pm ) Milou: If you've been asleep please look at the news asap

( 2:58 pm ) Milou: I'm outside, please answer the door

He looked at the time - 3:03 pm - and slowly got up, throwing the sheets off of himself and rubbing at his eyes. His glasses were on the bedside table, and he scrambled to pick them up in his half-asleep state, fingerprints smearing the lenses. A shirt lay on the chair across the bedroom - one of Siebren’s sweaters, but he didn’t care, it’d work. Grabbing it and throwing it on, he headed through the house and to the front door, leaving his phone behind in the bedroom. Opening the door, he was met with Milou wrapped in her autumn coat, her eyes and nose red. 

But not from the cold. She'd obviously been crying.

He ushered her inside, a hand on her shoulder.

“Milou, what’s up? What’s going on?” 

“You didn’t -- You didn’t look at the news, did you? Oh, no, no, Dad, no…” 

“Come sit down, honey, slow down.” He helped her out of her coat, leading her into the living area. She sat down on the couch and rubbed at her face, a hiccup of a sob leaving her throat as she opened her mouth to speak again.

“Pa -- he got into an accident,” Milou said, and Harold felt his heart skip and drop to his stomach.

“An accident?” He asked, sitting down beside her. Harold took her hands, still cold from the autumn air. 

“You didn’t answer the calls, so they called me to tell me, and--” her voice kept breaking. Harold couldn’t blame her. He squeezed her hands. “Pa might not make it, he might -- He’s being brought back to Earth but all I could get them to tell me was that something with his experiment messed up and he might not make it.”

* * *

  
  


“You can’t just take him and lock him up, that’s not right!” Harold said, held back by one arm gripped by a security guard. His eyes were frantic, searching, trying to find a glimpse of something behind one of the guards’ faces. Neither seemed willing to budge, their expressions stoic. “He has a family, he has people who love him.”

“He’s a danger,” Said a man from behind him. Harold turned, face to face with a large, pale man in a sleek suit. One of his hands glistened, metallic. There was a name badge on his jacket printed with the man's photo and the name 'Stendahl'. “Siebren de Kuiper is our subject now, and I’m going to have to ask you to remove yourself from the property.”

“Listen,” Harold said, pulling his arm from the gloved grip of one of the guards, “I didn’t come all the way here to watch my husband get shoved into a fucking facility to die because  _ you  _ can’t figure out how to help him!”

“That’s the thing. We  _ can’t  _ help him, Doctor Winston. He’s too far gone, unstable, he doesn’t even know who he is.” The man flipped open a cigarette case, sticking one between his lips. “At this point, he’s nothing better than an experiment for us to figure out.”

“You’re not even treating him like he’s human anymore,” Harold said, his voice cracking, throat tightening. “He deserves better. Let me see him.”

“If you go into his cell, you’ll get killed.” The metal hand raised, the palm glowing bright red, lighting the cigarette in the man’s mouth. 

"I won't - he knows me. Let me see him." 

The man pondered for a long moment before smiling.

“Fine. We’ll see how he responds to your presence, but if he gets too worked up, too unstable, we’re pulling you out of there immediately.”

Harold swallowed, setting his chin to stare up at the man.

“Fine.”

He was led, then, by a guard on either side and the man behind them. The building’s lobby looked more like a business’s reception area with a young man working at the desk, obviously on the phone with someone very important. Harold was ushered away from the reception and toward a heavy-looking door, opened by one of the guards and their pass. The doors slid open with a substantial clunking noise and Harold followed to where he was told, the hallway going from business to prison with cement walls and white floors.

  
  
  
  
  


“Siebren, hey. I’m here.” Harold spoke quietly, alerting Siebren to his presence. The other man had been led into a room much like a prison’s visiting area, glass separating him from Harold. He looked up, fingers picking at the sleeves of his jumpsuit, his expression brightening as he saw Harold’s face.

“Harold,” He said, and there was a trembling in his voice that Harold had never heard before. “Harold, I -- What happened? Why can’t I --”

“Shh, Siebren, honey. It’s okay,” Harold said, leaning closer to the glass. Microphones on either side allowed their voices to be heard. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m so lonely,” Siebren said. The panic in his eyes was heartbreaking. “Why am I here? Why can’t I be with you?”

“Sieb --”

“I don’t want to be here, I can’t stand it, I can’t -- All I hear all the time is music, but I just want to hear your voice, I can’t --” As Siebren went on, dust from the floor began to rise upward, followed by loose things, all on Siebren’s side, hovering several feet in the air. Siebren even began to float, his knees pulling up to his chest. The look in his eyes made it obvious that he was no longer looking at Harold, but through him, unable to see him. 

Someone came into the room with Harold, grabbing him from the chair he was in to pull him away. Siebren’s panic only worsened.

“Don’t leave, don’t leave, please don’t leave,” He begged. Harold didn’t have a choice. Strong arms shoved him from the room, and all he managed was a shout in Siebren’s direction and a hope that it got through.

“Siebren!” He yelled, trying to push past the guard. “I love you, I’m going to help you!”

The door slammed shut behind him. 

* * *

  
  
  
( the rest of this, sadly, are bits and pieces of the following arcs i never completed. there are giant sections i've left out simply because they make no sense whatsoever unless you know the context within my plotting, but i honestly can't bring myself to even begin to explain things! )

“...keep in touch, Gunrik. I’ll keep an eye on Subject Sigma for you.” 

Siebren’s head hurt. He’d heard that name before - Gunrik. Gunrik, Gunrik… Wasn’t an old colleague, nor did the name bring any sense of peace. It felt as though it made his insides curl up, disgusted and scared. Whoever Gunrik was, he wasn’t a good person. 

* * *

  
  


“Hey, kiddo. Any news?” Harold said, stepping beside Winston. The gorilla was staring at his computer screen, a hand under his chin, brows knit together in concentration.

“There’s some Talon activity here,” He said, pointing at the map. A blip was blinking, over and over, right on --

Harold set his coffee mug down. 

“That’s where they’re keeping Siebren, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” Winston sat back and Harold made a displeased sound.

“It figures. We finally,  _ maybe _ , get some help from Blackwatch and then this?” Harold paced, a hand running through his hair. He was going greyer by the day, worrying himself about Siebren. It had taken several months to get Overwatch to listen - Ana had been helpful, as had Jack, but even with the fact that they were so high up, it didn’t make it any easier to secure help on intimidating a government facility to give up Siebren. 

“About Blackwatch.” Winston said. “I just got a call from Gabe before you got here, and, um.”

Harold stared at Winston. 

“... As it turns out, Moira might have … been feeding information to Talon.”

"Are you fuc --" he caught himself. Straightened his back. "Are you kidding me?"

Winston looked down at his keyboard for a moment. Cleared his throat and avoided looking up at Harold.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“The best entryway should be about fifty feet down the main wall,” Harold said, and Winston nodded. He waved over Jesse and Genji, who had also heard the message through the comms. Harold continued. “It’s going to be a tight fit, so be careful.”

“You two can find that. I’ll break in through one of the main entrances and get some attention.” Winston said. He heard Harold suck in a breath, scared of the implications. “I’m big enough that they can throw whatever they want at me and I’ll be fine.”

“You might not be entirely fine. I’m headed up there with you.” Reinhardt’s voice came from behind them, his helmet already pulled on. “I’ll shield you. I know you have that flimsy little thing you made yourself, but I think we’d all feel better if you had a second barrier.”

“I--” Winston started, about to protest, but remembered Ana’s words - work as a team - and sighed. “Alright. Yeah, that’d be a good idea.”

Angela volunteered to go along with Jesse and Genji, while another medic prepared his things to follow behind Winston and Reinhardt. Other agents were positioning themselves throughout the area, ready to take on Talon’s forces. 

“To think, we’ve been trackin’ Talon for years and the one to lead us straight to ‘em was one of our own.” Jesse said, looking over his Peacekeeper. Reinhardt laughed - not comically, but there was no other way to describe the sound he made. 

“I knew I never liked her. Something always seemed off.” Reinhardt said.

* * *

  
  
  
  


“You are now officially Overwatch’s oldest agent. Congratulations,  _ Cygnus _ . We will, of course, have a proper induction ceremony for you later, but this,” Ana lifted the paper he’d just signed, her eyes gleaming. “Means you are official as of now.”

“I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity alone,” Siebren said. “The past year, working with these new abilities, learning how to use them for good… It still doesn’t feel real.”

  
  
  


“The blue suits you,” Harold said, running his hands over Siebren’s armored chest. The entire ensemble was in the typical blue and black of Overwatch’s usual uniforms, the armor polished and shining, still new and not yet touched by the violence of battle. Orange highlighted the sides and the Overwatch symbol pressed into the shoulder guards, along with the palms of his gloves. Harold looked him up and down, pausing to stare at the name engraved into the front of the chestplate. “Cygnus.”

Siebren laughed, leaning down to nudge his nose against Harold’s face. 

“Yes, yes, everyone’s been having their fun teasing me about the name,” He said, reaching to take Harold’s hands in his own. 

“Have they been teasing you about the fact that you’re barefoot, yet?” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> idk man give me an honest opinion, this is really clunky but I do wonder if my ideas were clear.


End file.
